Civil War: Consequences
by MegMarch1880
Summary: Civil War has happened. Instead of letting everyone sulk about it, someone decides to send Tony and Steve to Sweets to therapy. Perhaps everyone can better understand themselves and those around them. Drag0nst0rm is the coauthor
1. Meeting the Agents

**A/N: A/N: So this is the start of a multi-chapter look at Tony and Steve in therapy. I will freely admit that I am biased, but in this story will try my best to remain as unbiased as possible. Sweets will not know all that is going on so that it will be much easier to fairly understand what's going on. One of the biggest things that I want to make a point of is the fact that comparing traumas is never okay! Just because someone deals with PTSD while another is dealing with depression does not make one a 'bigger' issue than the other. All of the Avengers have their own mess-ups and flaws. All of them need counseling. I do not own these characters.**

Dr. Sweets was sitting in his office working on Booth and Brennan's book while waiting for his next appointment when the two suits entered the room. He glanced up from his notes, "I'm sorry but you'll have to make an appointment. I don't do walk-ins."

The lady seemed to muffle a slight laugh as the man glanced at him with a look that to Sweets seemed a mixture of paternal and 'really?'

The man spoke up though, "I believe you'll find that we are your next appointment."

Sweets buzzed the receptionist who informed him that they were in fact here for the afternoon.

He sighed and settled into his therapist chair, most therapy appointments did not take all afternoon and the fact that this one did made him nervous. "May I ask for your names please and what department you work for?"

The man's smile even more amused now, "You can call me Agent and this is Agent M. We're not here for therapy nor are we a part of the FBI."

Sweets glanced at him, while slowly reaching for the hidden panic button in the room after Brennan had made clear what she would do if he messed up again, he had decided that some security measures wouldn't hurt…

"We're a part of the Armed Forces, Dr. Sweets," Agent M's voice at least was calm, "We have two special force members that are having some workplace conflict. Obviously, this is not ideal for special forces…"

Sweets started to nod, okay they wanted to consult him professionally, he could handle that.

"So we have set up appointments for them to come in three times a week until you can hopefully get this better under control."

Sweets nodded his head, though he did think three times a week was a bit excessive, "Of course, what can you tell me about the conflict?"

The two glanced at each other, "Not much, nor will they be able to reveal several things because of security clearance."

Sweets raised an eyebrow, "You do realize that will make resolving it much more difficult?"

The Agent shrugged, "A lot of doesn't really have to do with the workplace, they just almost tried to kill each other at it."

Sweets sighed slightly, killing each other?

Agent M spoke up, "They weren't trying to kill each other, capture yes. Maim perhaps, kill…Only at the end."

Sweets muttered under his breath, "Do they have to work together?"

The Agent nodded his head very quickly, "It's an absolute necessity!"

Sweets nodded, sighing mentally, "When do I get to meet my first patient?"

Both of the Agents happily stood up, "He's in the waiting room now."


	2. Tony's Side of the Story

**A/N: So this is Tony's side of events. Now please remember Sweets does not know everything. He is hearing a simplified version of events. This means that some issues will be seen differently or not at all by Sweets because he does not know what's going on! Also, I welcome any suggestions for questions that Sweets should ask Tony. I have some training in the behavioral science field, thus why Sweets is talking with them. I do not own any of these characters.**

* * *

 **Tony's Side**

Sweets reached for a fresh pad of paper and looked up to see a worn, tired looking but well-dressed in a full suit, man.

"Come in! I'm Dr. Lance Sweets and you are?"

"Tony."

Sweets sighed, he did not want another difficult patient to deal with, "Alright, do you want to be here Tony?"

Tony shrugged looking defensive, "I liked this better out of the other options laid out."

Sweets sighed slightly, well he could work with that at least, "Alright Tony, do you know why you are here?"

"Yeah, Steve and I aren't getting along. I agreed to it though because Pepper said she'd be willing to talk to me about something other than business if I did."

"I assume Steve is the other special forces operative?"

Tony nodded while trying not to laugh.

"Is there something funny?"

Tony shrugged, "It's classified why it's funny so I'll stick with no."

Sweets mentally sighed, inside jokes great, "Okay well can you tell me who Pepper is? Especially since she's why you agreed to come."

"She works with me in my work in a lab. Sorta like Q from James Bond," Sweets nodded encouraging him to continue.

"And…she's my ex-girlfriend," the next words Sweets could tell were not easy words to say.

"Not ex by your choice I assume?"

"No."

"Well before I ask why you're here can you tell me a bit about yourself and your friends and family?"

Tony still did not look amused, but he talked, "I work as Q, I suppose for the government when I'm not busy doing special forces or working the family business. My parents are dead, I don't really have any family. Pepper and Happy, my driver, are the two people who see me most often along with JARVIS, my assistant. I'm friends with Rhodey from Special forces though he's injured right now and I keep an eye out for Peter whose in training."

Sweets knew already one of the problems, Tony clearly had a very small support network and those that he had clearly had a lot going on.

"Okay well, can you tell me what been going on?"

Tony's laugh seemed bitter, "I've been told I'm volatile, self-obsessed, don't play well with others, and a narcissist. Need I keep going?"

Sweets blinked, "That's quite a list, Tony. But while I personally doubt that, I'm sure you don't believe me. Perhaps a better question is, what has brought you to my door?"

"I'll give you the edited version, but wait and ask questions at the end," Sweets quickly nodded, patients rarely opened up this quickly and when they did it always was helpful.

"My father was a genius, he spent his life making weapons for the federal government. However, a brother-in-arms of his, Steve actually, was injured to the extent that he required a medically-required coma. My father felt that if he worked hard enough, he could rescue him. He could find him in that dream world and bring him back. Then along came me. I wasn't Steve and even by age five, I wasn't at his level of genius yet either. Nothing was good enough. I wasn't helpful to his cause, so I was ignored. Until I tried to show him something that was either not helpful to the cause, not good enough, or worse both. My mother and my father's personal assistant tried their best, but there's only so much one can do when your father is a genius alcoholic. He was violent and cruel, more so drunk than sober but it depended on the mood. I was at boarding school by the age of 7. There I had no one, and trips home were a rarity that was both treasured and not.

I was at MIT when my parents were killed in what appeared to be a car crash. It wasn't exactly uncommon knowledge that my father drank and so it appeared to be his fault," Sweets caught that and quietly added it to his list of questions.

"I took over the business and my father's government contracts. Then while on a trip overseas I was captured. They didn't want money which I have plenty of but weapons. I wasn't going to give weapons to terrorists! But they assured me that with me gone, my weapons would soon be in their hands. They shot me…and,"Sweets studied the man who seemingly unconsciously was clutching the middle of his chest, the wound he presumed.

"A fellow prisoner had to do surgery on me without anesthesia," Sweets started to think about that and immediately distracted himself, puking in front of a Special Ops man was not a good way to encourage him.

"I escaped and found out that my right-hand man was involved in black market weapons. I fought in more battles. Alone and with Rhodey. They're important but not really relevant," Sweets was struggling to see how Tony's parents were relevant, but the man was talking even if it seemed the man was just talking so he could get it over with.

"Then Steve woke up from the coma. They created a very Special ops team and we were both on it. It was hard to not hate the guy. He had been sick for so long but he was the reason that my childhood was gone!" Sweets quickly scribbled another note.

"We fought well together for a while. He seemed to tell that bringing up my father stung and I'd point out his coma issues," Tony shrugged, "It wasn't healthy but we could work together, relatively. But then they found this interrogator and master manipulator they wanted us to take down. And she saw, right through me," Sweets absently noticed the shaking in his hands.

"She saw that what I wanted most was to keep my team safe, keep Pepper safe. She made it seem like that if one of them died, it would be my fault. I hadn't been brave enough, team-focused enough, or smart enough. So with some of the others help, I created a weapon, a weapon smart enough to fight so we didn't have to. They couldn't be hurt if they weren't fighting right? Anyways, look at me," Tony broadly gestured, "I can't fight forever, and I don't want one of them falling in a battle because I can't fight anymore."

Sweets nodded his head encouragingly.

"But somehow the weapon messed up, it hurts people, innocent people. We had to destroy it. We lost two good men in particular in the process. The manipulator joined us and blamed me for my right-hand man's deception. She joined the team and started trying to figure out how to receive US citizenship," Sweets winced slightly, he wished the woman luck.

"It was all my fault, of course, the entire incident. Pepper wasn't happy with me helping to fight, nor with the weapon and broke up with me. Then I wasn't at a battle, the manipulator, W, gambled and saved some, but she lost others. The government decided it was enough, we needed oversight," Sweets frantically scribbled more questions down.

"Steve disagreed, he said what about when we disagreed with the oversight group," Tony sighed, "I understood his point, but we're an international team. Other countries have the right to tell us whether they want us involved and in what ways. We aren't all-knowing beings. And in any case, they weren't asking they were telling us. If we didn't do it, we either were to retire or prison. We're too dangerous to be left alone. Steve didn't think that was fair," Sweets winced at the bitter laugh.

"I wanted to ask what had been fair, in this life? But the world needs us, so I agreed. Steve declared he knew the truth and wouldn't be removed from it, and they call me the narcissist. He thinks he knew what was best for everybody, and maybe this wasn't it, but declaring it that way sure made it easier for people to believe we needed oversight," Tony shook his head.

" I forgot someone earlier. Steve's best friend before the coma was James. When Steve woke up many of his friends in arms had been killed and his girl was dying. But soonish after Steve woke up, they found James. He'd been thought dead for years but was in a terrorist cult, brainwashed and such. Well, James was accused of a bombing, and a team was sent after him with orders to kill. Steve thought it was ridiculous and went after him and fought the strike team. As a result though, one of our bosses was going to send squads after Steve now too because after James was taken in, they had him in containment but he escaped. So I told the boss that I'd talk him down, just to give me time. I had 48 hours before the squads with orders to kill came in," Tony shook his head.

"We fought, Rhodey was paralyzed in the fight. Those who had agreed with Steve on the Accords were locked up. It wasn't what I wanted! But the world wanted us to have oversight, needed us to have oversight. And the day that we insist that we know better than the populace is the day we need to be taken down. We may have superpowers but the 7 billion people in this world should have a vote on what's going on too. I went after Steve to let him know what happened to his fellow soldiers and found out," Tony shook his head.

"No, ask Steve about that. Next session I'll answer all your questions about how I feel and all that but I'm not telling that. The one thing I will say is that it resulted in Steve almost killing me with the weapon my father made."

Tony seemed to collapse in on himself exhausted.

"Tony?"

He glanced up, "Thank you for sharing all of that. I think we'll be done for the day and ask further questions next session."

Tony nodded and stood, "By the way Tony, when was your last physical?"

Tony's voice sounded irritated as he answered, "I'm sure I have no idea Sweets probably the last time I got injured."

Sweets sighed, "Would you at least be willing to consider going since you kept reaching for your heart. Chest pains are not uncommon in high-stress jobs and a heart attack won't let you protect the world."

Tony's bitter laugh echoed as he opened the door, "I'll probably die in the suit, I know. But hey maybe then I'll finally live up to their expectations?"


	3. Steve's Side of the Story

**A/N: Thank you for all of the support already shown for this story! Your support means so much to me! I do not own these characters! Drag0nst0rm will now be writing Steve's therapy sessions.**

 **Steve's Thoughts**

The knock came about an hour after Tony left. Sweets looked up from his notes to see a young man carrying himself with stiff composure enter the room.

He smiled in the hopes of putting the young man at his ease. The session would go easier if he could get the young man to relax.

And, frankly, nervous special forces agents made _him_ nervous.

"Dr. Sweets," he said. "And you are?"

The young man sat down on the edge of one of the available seats. His eyes were still sweeping the room and lingering on the exits. "Steve."

Sweets froze. He'd been expecting . . . Well, he wasn't quite sure what age he had been expecting, but not this. Steve looked like he might still be in his twenties.

Steve winced. "I know I'm probably not quite what you were expecting. I'm a bit older than I look. I'm not really supposed to tell you more than that."

Sweets took a deep breath. Right.

Well, next time he heard Hodgins mutter about crazy government conspiracy theories, he might be a bit more inclined to believe him.

In the meantime, he had a client to look after. A client whose expression could be most optimistically called 'polite.'

He thought he already knew the answer to this, but he had to ask. "How do you feel about coming in for these sessions?"

Steve grimaced. "I hate the fact that it's come to this, but at this stage, a mediator's probably exactly what we need."

Sweets caught the word choice there. "A mediator. Not necessarily a therapist?"

Steve shifted uncomfortably. "Therapy wasn't really . . . accepted . . . where I grew up."

Sadly, still all too common. Sweets tried to smile reassuringly. "Everyone needs help sometimes. There's nothing wrong with getting the help you need."

Steve still didn't seem enthusiastic, but Sweets hadn't really expected a sudden turn around. Well, if Steve wanted a mediator, maybe that was the place to start.

"So how did things get to this point between you and Tony?"

"We got off on the wrong foot," Steve admitted. "I knew his dad, back in the day. He was a good man to have at your back in the war, but from what I've heard, he didn't make the transition back well. I never knew him when he was back home, but whatever he was like, Tony built up a lot of resentment over it, and I was a big part of that. Tony lashed out, and . . . " Steve grimaced. "He hit some sore spots." It was plain he didn't like having to admit that. "I reacted in kind. We managed to pull together for the sake of the mission, though, and I thought at the time that we managed to get past it. I don't know, though. Some of it came out again. Maybe we never really did."

Sweets could see it happening all too easily. Issues buried for the sake of staying alive could very easily resurrect themselves.

"Things got worse after a mission went bad. Really bad." Steve frowned down at his hands. "I don't know how much I can tell you, but Tony made a bad call. Under stressful circumstances," he added, "but a bad call. People died. We fought. We made up again for the sake of the mission, but . . . "

Sweets was sensing a pattern here.

"Tony took some time off from the team. We got some new members and took them out on a training mission." Steve sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I messed up. One of the guys we went up against used something from my past against me, and I just froze."

That sounded like something they might need to work on.

"One of our other people tried to cover for my mistake, but she couldn't fix all of it. People died. They blamed her, and it was decided that we needed more oversight. The team was pretty divided on that. Tony was all for it after everything that had happened. I had concerns."

"What concerned you?"

"Most of that's classified." Steve sighed. "Well, no. Most of that _should_ be classified. It's complicated. The bottom line is that I don't have the best record with government oversight. The first time, they tried to turn me into a dancing monkey and then abandoned a group of men to die. The second time, they tried to sacrifice a big group of civilians for the 'greater good.' The third time, it turned out they'd been infiltrated, and they tried to kill me. And most of the people I know. And a bunch of civilians."

"So at this stage, you don't trust them," Sweets said.

Steve raised his hands helplessly. "I used to. I still want to. I just can't afford to."

Frankly, Sweets didn't know nearly enough about whatever shadowy agency Steve worked for to know if he _should_ trust whatever oversight committee had been suggested or not, and that wasn't the issue. The point wasn't the politics; the point was Steve's demonstrated inability to trust that committee and how that in turn affected his team dynamics.

"How did you resolve the issue?"

"I resigned."

Sweets blinked. He hadn't been expecting that.

"And I would have stayed resigned if the bombing hadn't been pinned on Bucky."

Sweets blinked again. "I feel like I'm missing part of the story here."

"There was an event to sign the Accords that would have legalized the oversight. It was bombed."

Alright, that was clear enough. "Who's Bucky?"

Steve winced. The question seemed more painful to him than Sweets would have expected. "He's a friend from before the coma. The only one of those I have left. Unfortunately, while I was out of it, he got taken by the enemy. They messed him up. Really bad. By the time I found him again, he didn't even know who he was. They'd hurt him until he'd given in and hurt others, and he wouldn't stay in one place long enough to get help. I managed to get him free of them, but that was the best I managed. Until the bombing."

"That they thought he committed. You didn't?"

"I would have believed it if they'd said he'd done something else," Steve said slowly. "Attacked someone who'd gotten in his way, something like that. But this . . . It didn't make sense. Not as a target, not in the way he'd carried it out. Whether he'd done it or not, I was running out of time. They didn't want to bring him in alive. They wanted him dead. If he was going to get a fair hearing, I had to step in."

"How did Tony react?"

"He was frustrated, I think, but at that stage, we both thought things were still salvageable. I was willing to agree to the oversight just so Bucky could get the treatment he needed. Tony was willing to brush the fact that I'd broken the rules under the rug. Then it came out that Wanda was under house arrest."

"Wanda?"

"The teammate that tried to cover for me. That wasn't all on her. It was my mistake too, and frankly, if she hadn't stepped in, things would have been a lot worse. But Wanda's in a more vulnerable position than I am, and she'd had her hands on it last, so she got the blame. It was a bad precedent for how things were going to be under the Accords. I couldn't sign in good conscience. Not after that."

Under other circumstances, Sweets might have let that go, but since Wanda seemed to a point of contention between Steve and Tony, it was important to address her treatment. "What were the alternatives? I know she's not yet an American citizen; could ICE have gotten involved?"

Steve actually laughed, which was an . . . interesting reaction. "I doubt it. With our skillsets, we're hard to contain with ordinary measures." His mirth faded quickly. "Honestly, as arrests go, house arrest was definitely the best option. My problem wasn't with the location, it was that it was happening at all. Her 'crime' was that she couldn't save everybody, and that she got bad publicity for it. That's it. And sometimes, no matter how much you want to, you just can't save everyone. If they're going to start locking us up every time that happens, soon there won't be any of us left to fight."

Sweets wondered if it would be possible for him to see some footage of the incident, or at least a mission report.

Based on what he'd gotten so far, he doubted it. Which meant he'd have to rely on Steve and Tony's presumably equally biased accounts.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

"Sounds like you had a bit of a stalemate."

"We did," Steve said wearily. "Right up until the government approved psychologist turned out to be a mole who set off Bucky's conditioning and unleashed him under the facility." He paused for a moment. "That didn't help my issues with trusting the government," he added with a hint of irony lacing his voice.

Technically, that might not have been the government's fault, but Sweets couldn't really say he was _surprised_ by Steve's reaction.

"I managed to break through his conditioning, but only after he'd hurt more people. No one died, fortunately. He revealed what he believed he'd learned about the mole's plans. The plans were catastrophic. They had to be stopped. We pulled together a rogue team to stop it. Tony, not knowing what was going on, pulled together a team to stop us. We tried to explain, but by that point, no one was really in the mood to listen. We fought our way through."

"Was anyone hurt?" That could seriously mess with team dynamics.

"Not seriously. Not until the end. Then Rhodey got hit by someone on his own side of the line. He hasn't been able to walk since." Steve's voice was heavy.

That was going to cause issues.

"Most of our rogue team got captured. One of them managed to fill Tony in. He set aside our personal issues and went rogue himself to help."

Oh, look. There was the pattern again.

"Honestly, that might have worked if the situation had been what we thought it was, but it was a trap. The mole really just wanted us all in the same place, so he could spring some old secrets on us and watch us go."

That sounded bad. "Old secrets?"

Steve grimaced. "This part gets hard to explain without getting into the stuff I'm not supposed to tell you. The terrorists that had Bucky used him as part of a successful plot to kill Tony's parents. It wasn't Bucky's fault, but Tony didn't see it that way."

Sweets had no idea whether it had been Bucky's fault or not, but that wasn't really relevant here. He could see where this was going. "So it turned into a fight."

"I had known beforehand, which made it worse," Steve agreed. "I just - Howard was my friend. I couldn't face it. I know I should have told Tony, and I've apologized for keeping it from him, but at the time . . . "

At the time, they'd had an explosive situation on their hands, and the knowledge that Steve had kept that secret had probably been the spark.

"He wanted to kill Bucky. I told Bucky to run and tried to hold him off. He managed to destroy the exit so that Bucky couldn't run, and from there the fight spiraled out of control pretty quick. Tony shot Bucky's arm off - "

"What?" Sweets blurted out.

"His prosthetic arm," Steve corrected.

 _"What?"_

Steve winced. "To be fair to Tony, whatever you're picturing, it's almost certainly not that."

Sweets' image of a war torn veteran with a terrible prosthetic morphed to secret government robot hands.

He was being ridiculous.

Probably.

"So it was down to just Tony and I," Steve continued. "Tony got the upper hand, Bucky managed to intervene, and I claimed the upper hand again. I won. We walked away. I got Bucky the best help I could and went to get the others out of jail. I left Tony an apology and a way to contact me." His mouth twisted into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I admit, this isn't what I had in mind when I did that."

"But it at least shows that you both want to be able to work together again," Sweets said encouragingly. "Who do you have to support you as you go through this?"

"Sam," Steve said instantly. "He's been a good friend."

"Good. Who else?"

"Maybe Nat," Steve said reluctantly. "We're still working through our own issues, though."

"What about family?"

"My family's dead," Steve said flatly. "Unless you count Bucky, but he's in no position to be worrying about _my_ issues right now."

"That's probably true," Sweets agreed. "Surely there's someone else?"

Steve shrugged. "I haven't really been able to contact Sharon, and I need to be strong for Wanda, not the other way around."

His support network was about as underwhelming as Tony's then. "What do you do outside of work?" Maybe Steve could think of more people if Sweets prompted him.

Steve's shoulders hunched a bit defensively.

Sweets' heart sank. "You do . . . have something outside of work, don't you?"

"My work's important."

"I'm sure it is, but you need balance in your life. Besides, you won't be able to do this job forever. What do you plan to do when you have to retire?"

Steve's mouth twisted. "I don't think I'll make it that long, to be honest."

Sweets had concerns.

"In that case, your homework for our next session is to try and think of something to get involved in. Something that makes you happy."

"That's what Sam says," Steve said as he moved toward the door.

"Then Sam sounds like a very wise person."


	4. Nobody Can Save Me

A/N: Sorry this took so long! School started back and it has been crazy busy! I love the thoughts and questions that people have been bringing up and I hope that you like the way I handle these different and difficult topics. If I have any Team Cap fans, I don't want you to feel like Steve is being attacked. Each will get their fair side, but the Mini-Tony in my brain insisted that he was going to monologue… Mini-Steve forgot to tell Mini-Sweets that before he started.

Nobody Can Save Me

It was two days later when Tony walked back into Sweets office. Sweets had a long list of questions of areas that he needed more information in.

"Tony, how would you say that you are on a scale of 1 to 10 today? One being life is the worst. Ten being that life couldn't be better."

Tony looked at Sweets like he was an idiot but he answered, " A four I suppose. Rhodey is doing better and Pepper is really pleased with me actually talking about this."

Sweets glanced at him, "Uh, Tony if I had asked you that during our first session what would you have said?"

Tony shrugged, "A two maybe? Afghanistan will always be 1."

Sweets mentally winced, he had thought Tony had PTSD, anxiety, maybe heart problems, but that he had missed depression was concerning.

"Alright, well I can already give you our first homework assignment is for you to do something as self-care. Maybe having a relaxing time with friends, reading a book, journaling, or something like that."

Tony sighed, "Does working in my lab count?"

Sweets looked at him, "Normally for a scientist I might say yes… But I suspect you use your lab to hide, am I right?"

Tony reluctantly nodded, "That's what I figured, so no Tony, your lab does not count. That means you take care of yourself. Not work yourself harder to make time for it."

Sweets caught the subtle wince, he mentally nodded, he had thought that Tony was more similar to Dr. Brennan than Agent Booth. It looks like he was right.

"Alright, so Tony can you tell me who all is on your team? You don't have to give me actual names or anything. But you and Steve keep referencing people that I have no idea who they are. So give me something to work with please?'

"Well there's me and Cap or Steve, I guess is how you're familiar with him. Then there was Rhodey although he's paralyzed now. Then there's Sam, Nat, Clint, W or Wanda, Bruce, Thor, Peter, T'Challa, Scott, and Vision.'

Sweets slowly blinked, "Oh, it's a bigger team than I expected."

He shrugged, "In the beginning, it was Nat, Thor, Steve, Bruce, and Clint. We've grown since then."

Sweets nodded, "But that hasn't been enough to make you feel safe for the next generation of special ops?"

Tony's bitter laugh made Sweets feel bad for Tony. Tony answered though, "Why should I feel better? Sam is almost 40 and Rhodey is almost 50. I'm right behind Rhodey but with more injuries. Clint is right there with me. No one knows how old Nat, Bruce, Thor, or Steve is nor how long they'll live. Nat, Bruce, and Steve were all experimented on. They could live twenty more years being able to fight in the field or could have to drop out tomorrow. Thor and T'Challa have other responsibilities. I don't trust Wanda even though the team does. She refuses to accept responsibility for her actions. She messed with our minds and blamed me for her parent's death. Even I know that isn't right! Vision will be fine, but he doesn't always read social situations right and playing right with people is part of the job."

Sweets nodded, "So Scott and Peter are also able to work with Vision?"

Tony shrugged, "Peter's still too young to be used in anything but an emergency like when we ended up fighting with Steve to protect others from him."

"You've said several things that are very interesting. You mentioned that Peter is too young? Protecting others from Steve? As well as Wanda blaming you for her parent's deaths? Can you explain any of these?"

Tony nodded, "Peter is a bit young to be fighting but with the 48-hour deadline I had, I had Peter come to use his talents to hopefully detain Steve and the others so that the death squads wouldn't be sent out. I didn't want more people injured or killed because of the difference in strength levels. Steve, Nat, Bruce, Thor, Vision, and others sometimes forget that they have abilities that most people just dream of. They deal out blows that can kill a normal man."

"How do you survive then Tony?"

"My toys and a mask to hide my face."

Sweets were unable to completely hide the look of horror on his face, "Do they not remember that you're all human?"

Tony shrugged, "Don't you get it Sweets. I'm not human, I'm a man in a suit that provides them with what they need when they need it. I don't have emotions. I just mess up and get debugged like one of my machines."

"That's a terrible way to view yourself, Tony. You are not a machine, you are a brilliant man."

"And that's all I'm good for in a nutshell. You asked about Wanda's parents didn't you? Some rebels got ahold of some of my weapons and shot them in her home country. It killed her parents and she spent two days staring at the side of a bomb that read "Tony". Do you know what makes it even better? We went back to Wanda's country and fought. We tried to save as many lives as we could but couldn't save them all. Months passed and I went to a presentation to give out scholarships. There I met a mother of a son who we didn't save. It never ends don't you see? It's always my fault, if I had just reached higher, done better, they'd stop blaming me."

"Tony, look at me. Tony!" Sweets was genuinely afraid that Tony was having an anxiety attack but Tony finally focused back on him.

"Tony it's not your fault. You cannot save the world. It's unfair of people to even expect you to try. You're a normal man, a very smart one granted, but you are one man. You cannot do everything you've mentioned in these sessions and not die. You have to be exhausted. I know that you don't believe it yet. But this is not your fault. Now, why don't you tell me about your other responsibilities?"

"Well as stated I help run my dad's company, I work as Q for the US government, I work as a special forces operative, I am in charge of my company's R&D department, I help administer scholarships and foundations, and for a while, I was dating Pepper."

"And are you pretty good at that?"

"Pepper's better at the business side of things and I don't understand how she or anyone would actually want to date me for me. But I don't do a bad job of things, I guess."

"Do your other team members juggle these responsibilities?"

"Well, Thor and T'Challa are heads of state for two separate countries. Nat and Clint do other jobs separately for special forces. Bruce works in my labs before he disappeared. The others just train really."

"So you're measuring your ability to handle things based off of a majority of people who aren't even working full time?"

Tony shrugged seeming sheepish, "It does sound odd when you put it like that…"

Sweets transitioned the topic to Tony's inventions. It appeared that Tony was emotionally exhausted for today.


	5. No Clear Answers

A/N: We do not own the Avengers.

The more Sweets heard, the more concerned he got about what, exactly, had happened to these people.

Or, if he was being honest, what the government had done to them.

Steve interrupted that depressing series of thoughts by showing up for his next session. He still had the polite expression from his last session, but Sweets thought he'd let his guard down just a little. Enough for Sweets to glimpse what was behind the mask.

Mostly, what was behind the mask looked tired.

That at least gave them a place to start. "On a scale of one to ten, with one being the equivalent of moldy bread laced with arsenic and ten being the world's best birthday cake, how are you doing today?"

Steve paused to consider this. "Maybe a four," he finally concluded.

Sweets had held out hope for better, if for no other reason than because he was sure that in Steve's line of work, days that qualified as ones got really, really bad. Then again, therapy was apparently making him extremely uncomfortably, and it was possible he wasn't counting the life-or-death as extremely bad days on his scale.

"Alright. I've got a couple of questions left over from your last session and some other issues that I want your perspective on and that I've gotten permission to share. I thought maybe we could spend today going through those."

Steve shrugged. "Whatever you think will help."  
"You mentioned last time that therapy wasn't really supported in the place you grew up at. Can

you go into a bit more detail about how mental health _was_ handled?"

Steve's mouth twisted wryly. "Handled implies that we had the resources to do much of anything. We had more than a few men in the neighborhood that had come back from the war shell shocked."

Sweets noted the archaic term but didn't correct it.

"Some of them did their best to drink themselves to death. Some of them just tried to push through. Their families did the best they could with it, although sometimes the best they could was less about helping the guy in question and more about making sure the kids didn't get hurt." Steve sighed. "I'm sure if we'd been better off there would have been other options - don't know if they'd have been any better, but there would have been _something._ As it was . . . " He shrugged helplessly.

"What about for issues other than PTSD?"

"If it happened, we didn't talk about it. Or at least not the way you mean. Looking back . . . " He frowned. "Looking back, I think I can guess some of what was going on. But at the time, we just didn't have the money or the know-how to do much about it. You either worked around it,

or, well." His expression became pained. Sweets was pretty sure an old memory was surfacing. "You didn't."

A poor neighborhood then, Sweets gathered, and not well educated. Without having a good handle on Steve's age, it was hard to know exactly what the general attitude would have been when he was growing up, but he knew enough at this point to have a better understanding of why Steve was so uncomfortable with therapy.

"I did have to go see a therapist after the coma," Steve volunteered. He should have expected that. "How did that go?"  
Steve grimaced.  
That explained a lot too.

"Well, hopefully we can work together to make this more useful for you. On that note, let's talk about your feelings towards Tony. Do you blame him?"

"For what specifically?"  
"Anything. If you're going to work together again, it's important to clear the air."

"I blame him for what went down in Wanda's country," Steve said. "I know he regrets it now, and I know the situation wasn't solely his fault, but he was a key player, and his initial reaction wasn't exactly to step up and take his fair share of responsibility. And . . . I blame him for the fact that last fight went as far as it did. I get being angry, but there were a couple of points there where one of us could have died, and it should never have gotten that far."

Sweets nodded. "I think at this stage both you and Tony think things have gone too far, so it's good that you're getting help. Tony raised a concern that I'd like your perspective on. How critical do you think your team is to your mission?"

"More important than I can explain," Steve said firmly.

Sweets pushed aside his own growing paranoia about what, exactly, the government got up to and didn't tell them and got back to the point. "How much longer do you think the team can fight as is? Just from an age and health perspective."

"That's hard to judge," Steve said slowly. "I've got at least a couple more decades in me, but . . ."

"But the thing you can't talk about," Sweets filled in.

"Right. Natasha's the same. Sam's got maybe fifteen years, Wanda maybe twenty-five, Thor'll outlive us all if he ever shows up again, who even knows about Bruce, and then Tony and Rhodey are a whole other kettle of fish."

Sweets raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I don't know how much longer Tony can keep fighting in the suit," Steve said. "On the one hand, it's Tony, and I wouldn't bet against him when it came to anything technological. On the other hand, it's Tony, and the fact neither his liver nor his heart has given up yet is kind of incredible."

The liver remark concerned Sweets.

"I don't know how long Tony can stay in the field. The suit could be given to someone else, but I don't know if Tony would let them. Regardless, between the people currently on the team and some others that we can call up when things get really bad, it's not an issue I'd probably even really start thinking about for another ten years or so, and it shouldn't get really problematic for even longer than that. With the number of problems we're facing in the short term, I'm not too bothered about that one at the moment."

Long term planning was important, but so was not getting overwhelmed by potential future problems. Sweets was extremely curious about Steve's descriptions of some of the ages in play, but this was enough information to decide this issue could probably be tabled for now. "Alright. Let's look at what seems to by the key issue between you: more oversight. You weren't happy with it. What alternative did you want to pursue?"

"At the time? I didn't have one. You have to understand that while I'm sure the powers that be had been chewing on this for a long time, I didn't hear a whisper of it until three days before we were supposed to sign. And it wasn't exactly a quick or easy read." Steve grimaced. "I was still trying to process more than the basics of what it all even meant beyond the basic principles when I got a call that someone I cared about who had been sick for a long time had finally lost the fight. I knew enough to know I didn't like what the Accords were going for and that once I signed I lost any leverage to change them, but I didn't have the time or the headspace to advocate for something different. Otherwise I'd have been doing that instead of just planning to resign."

Sweets nodded slowly. "You said at the time. Do you have different thoughts now?"

"Sure. Hindsight's always clear. The real issue was public perception. Ideally, I would have had us lay low for awhile and had the PR machine push back in our favor until the issue died down, or there was something we really had to be called out to handle. As far as oversight goes, I would have pushed the team to become better trained, but you've got to understand, the missions we're called out on, we don't _get_ called out until we're pretty much the only option. Oversight would be an unnecessary green light at best and obstructionist at worst."

Things were rapidly getting to the point where Sweets just really, really needed an objective look at what exactly this team did, who oversaw them, and what was going on. It was getting hard to decide what he should do without knowing more about who had the more accurate view of this oversight process.

But he wasn't going to get that, so he'd just have to muddle along as best he could.

"What about the homework I gave you? Have you found something outside of work that makes you happy?"

That bit, at least, he felt qualified to handle.


	6. Let's Play the Blame Game

A/N: Sorry I took so long guys, school is busy and I may have gotten stuck again... Hope you enjoy!

Sweets was used to clients having problematic childhoods.

He was less used to the issues from those childhoods being at least partially wrapped up in a man who was, to all appearances, a few decades younger than they were, but, well . . . Everything about these had been unusual, to say the least.

"It seems clear from our previous sessions that you have some outstanding issues with your father."

Tony snorted. "Always have, always will, and I doubt anything you could say would change that."

Part of Sweets wanted to dig into that, but the point of these sessions was supposed to be getting Steve and Tony to work together again, so he would have to head to his main point. "And at least part of that was because of your father's drive to find some way to help Steve."

"Dad's great quest," Tony agreed bitterly.

"How does Steve feel about what your father did?"

Tony shrugged. "He and Dad were friends in the war."

That wasn't actually an answer. "So he appreciates your father's efforts?" he pressed.

Tony grimaced. "I - It's possible that we've never really talked about it. Directly. Around it, definitely. Directly, not so much."

"Did Steve have a chance to say anything before he went under? Give a message, anything like that?"

Tony looked briefly startled by the subject change, but he rolled with it. "Oh, yeah. Had this whole tragic dialogue with Aunt Peggy - One of my dad's colleagues," he added, correctly interpreting Sweets' confusion. "She and Steve were tight."

Sweets wondered what had happened to her if she wasn't part of Steve's support network now. Right now, though, the focus was on Tony. "Did Steve ask your father to try to find some way to fix it?"

Tony's mouth twisted. "I don't think Steve was really interested in anyone fixing it at that point."

Concerned was no longer really a strong enough for what Sweets was feeling at this point, but - Tony. The point right now was Tony. "So, no, then."

"No," Tony agreed. "I see where you're going with this, you know. Dad's choices were his own decision, it wasn't Steve's fault, blah, blah, blah."

"Is that what you believe?" Sweets asked neutrally.

"I'm about seventy-five percent sure that the fact he went under was his fault, actually, although an argument could be made for eighty. But, Dad - Dad made his own choices. I'm not an idiot. I know that." His mouth twisted bitterly again. "It just doesn't make it any easier to deal with the fact that I grew up hearing about the All-American guy I'd never be."

"The fact that you are trying to separate the two issues is very encouraging, but I know what you mentally acknowledge and what you feel can be two very different things. What can you do to help keep Howard's actions and Steve's separate?"

"I can keep reminding myself that Dad would have been a jerk with or without Steve's suicidal tendencies. Steve was Steve even without the serum just like Dad was Dad."

That was the first time anyone had come right out and said the words that had been circling in Sweets' mind since his first session with Steve, and he had to take a deep breath and remind himself that Steve was currently in the building under the watchful eye of his receptionist before he could get back to the problem at hand.

"Speaking of blame, I was wondering if you could give me a better idea of just what went down in Wanda's home country."

For the first time, Tony looked truly old.

"We were there to deal with another issue. Grab an important weapon, get rid of some bad guys. All in a day's work. Would have gone fine if it hadn't been the first time we ran into Wanda."

"Why was that a problem?"

"Wanda's got a way with people's heads. I've told you that before. I . . . " Tony pressed his lips together. "She made it clear that we wouldn't always be enough. Something that could do our job better than we could for when the time came that we couldn't. Wanda was the last straw. I'd been working on a project for awhile that could help with that, and getting our hands on the weapon we were there to retrieve was the last piece of the puzzle. I wasn't going to be able to keep my hands on it for long, so I didn't take as much time with safety precautions as I normally would have. I wanted to build a new weapon, and I pushed Bruce into helping me." He paused. "It backfired. Obviously."

Sweets nodded, "Did you feel pressured to find a solution to this problem?" Sweets personally wasn't even sure there was a problem but figured follow the client's train of thought.

Tony shrugged, "At the time definitely. Even now, I feel like the others don't look to the future seriously enough but then again I am one of the oldest of us. Maybe wisdom is popping up for me after all."

Sweets nodded, "So you attribute this concern more from your age?"

"My age and I'm sure the therapist who first evaluated me said something about trust issues."

Sweets nodded his head again, "But do you agree with that?"

Tony cocked his head, "Maybe, or maybe it's more that I don't want anyone to experience my life," his bitter laugh made Sweets wince, "I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

Sweets looked at him curiously, "Who would you say is your worst enemy Tony?"

Tony sighed, "Obediah Stane, the guy who betrayed me."

Sweets blinked as pieces clicked into place, "Is that your true problem with Steve, Tony? You feel that he betrayed you by not telling what happened to your parents?"

Tony seemed bewildered at the change in topics but slowly nodded, "His best friend killed my mom and he didn't think to tell me about it. Even though he felt perfectly reasonable to get all high and mighty about me not telling him about the new weapon."

Sweets sighed, "And that's the true problem?"

Tony slowly nodded, "I guess so. How do I ever trust him when he won't trust me either?"

Sweets took a deep breath, "Time and effort are the answers, unfortunately. But something you said earlier I'm curious about, that Wanda was good with messing with people's heads, can you explain that?"

Tony shrugged, "I don't really know what else to tell you Sweets other than that. She's good at it. I'm not entirely sure even how she does it."

Sweets winced, he very much wished that the rest of the team could come in too. Wanda's power over her teammates was key information but he knew that asking the Agents for information would be a dead end. "Do you feel like Wanda invaded your privacy when she did that?"

Tony immediately nodded, "Messing with someone's head is a terrible thing. I got enough problems without extra help."

Sweets sighed without any more information, he'd have to take that as a success. "Well Tony, I am impressed with the amount of progress you have made. You have shown openness to working with Steve once again."

Tony shrugged, "Saving the world is important and having someone recognize the importance of trust in my life is nice."

Sweets continued, "Now has the homework from the last several sessions gone?"

Tony winced, "Let's just say the checkup didn't reveal any new information and leave at that, yeah?"

Sweets sighed but continued,"For our last session, next week, I think we will have our session together with Steve. For next week though, I want you to continue to separate the difference between the issues of Steve and your father. Also, I want you to think of something that would make you feel that Steve is wanting you to trust him again."

Tony rolled his eyes but nodded as he headed out the door.


	7. The Other Side

**A/N: WARNING: If talk of suicide is an uncomfortable topic for you search the page for the word tentatively and you should be able to miss it. On another note, we'll be wrapping up this story quite soon! Thank you so much for all the responses! Drag0nst0rm and I are both very happy that you're enjoying this story! Also both Drag0nst0rm and I wrote on this chapter, and without further ado, let us begin.**

Steve came into the room and sat down glancing at Sweets as if he could read that something was off about Sweets. Sweets momentarily thought that Steve could read his mind but that was a silly thought… Almost as silly as Steve working with Tony's father, Steve looking 25, and Tony working as Q for the US government.

Sweets forcefully redirected his mind to the very urgent issue at hand.

"Steve, are you thinking about suicide?"

A tiny part of Sweets brain absently noted that was the most surprised he'd ever seen Steve. The rest of him was very concerned about his response.

Steve finally spoke, however, sounding almost strangled, "No, why would you even…"

Sweets mentally winced, he wasn't sure if that meant that he actually had not, didn't want to talk about it, or actually had but simply didn't recognize it.

Sweets finally nodded, "Steve, you suffer from depression, which in of itself does not mean you are suicidal. However, I have not seen much interest in yourself from you."

Steve still seemed bewildered but slowly nodded, "The cause is more important of course. Things were rough when we thought we had lost Bucky and when we found him with the terrorists but he's gotten better."

Sweets nodded again, "We're not talking about Bucky, Steve. Now does the idea of your death upset you?"

Steve shrugged, "Bucky'd be upset and I'd hate to leave the team in the lurch but it's not like I've got plans for next Saturday."

Sweets froze, "Plans to do something period or no specific plans to commit suicide?"

Steve shot him a look, "Plans to do something."

Sweets nodded, "So back to your previous point, death doesn't upset you?"

Steve sighed, "I'm in special ops is that such an odd characteristic?"

Sweets looked at him and answered him flatly, "Yes, it is Steve. Now you have stated you are not thinking about suicide, have you thought about suicide in the past?"

Steve shook his head, "No, I'd never considered that. It goes against what I believe in."

Sweets nodded slowly, "I didn't realize you were religious Steve?"

Steve nodded sort of absently, "Catholic."

Sweets sighed, "So if you aren't suicidal, than why do the few reports I've been given paint you as such? Or for that matter why a teammate whom you and he almost killed each other is convinced otherwise?"

Sweets mentally winced, he really shouldn't have said that about Tony but if Steve was headed that way it was worth it.

Steve seemed almost shrunk in on himself as he answered, "I'm not now, but after we lost Bucky. We thought he was dead. I've always been told I'm a bit reckless and the person to bail me out wasn't there to do it anymore. After I woke up, I've been needed and then Bucky was back and he needed me."

Sweets thought for a second, he seemed to do well enough with people around who need him and thankfully it seemed the world needed him. Sweets thought he was alright for the moment but Sweets would include it in whatever files he sent to Steve's next therapist and he was going to insist in another one who could be briefed on everything. With that at least tentatively settled, Sweets turned to the other issue at hand.

"Wanda seems to be a key point of contention between you and Tony. Tony mentioned that you originally met as enemies?"

Steve nodded. "Wanda wanted to help her country. Unfortunately, that got her involved with some bad people. When she saw just how bad it was threatening to get, she came to help us."

"Had she hurt anyone on your team before that point?"

Steve winced. "We'd fought. I think we were all . . . disturbed . . . by that experience. It's something I was kind of used to by that point, though."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say that our team has a history of not clicking right away." He smiled wryly. "Sometimes violently."

"So you don't see it as an issue?"

"She's a kid that made a bad mistake. She did what she could to fix it, and she hasn't made that mistake again. I respect that."

Sweets was stuck on the word "kid." Steve of course didn't mean that she was an actual child - Well, Steve _probably_ didn't mean that she was an actual child - Sweets _hoped -_

"Er, how old is she? Exactly?"

"She was seventeen at the time. Nineteen, by the time all this blew up." (Note to Sis: this is in accordance with other fan's calculations. It does not agree with the actress's age, but then, what else is new?)

"Oh." Sweets swallowed. "Isn't that a bit . . . young?"

"It is," Steve agreed. "There's a reason she was only just now starting training missions."

"Right," Sweets agreed weakly. "So she's the youngest on the team."

Something flashed across Steve's face. "She should be."

Sweets . . . was not entirely certain that was agreement.

This conversation was definitely giving him second thoughts about this mysterious teammate.

"Do you trust your teammates?"

Steve's mouth twisted. "I trust them to try to do the right thing," he finally offered. "I don't trust some of them to always make good decisions in the pursuit of that. Or to share relevant information."

"Is Tony one of those you struggle trusting?"

"Yes," Steve said instantly. "I know I've kept things from him too, and I meant the apology I gave him, but I can't help but feel there's a difference between not sharing important personal information and not sharing mission-critical information."

"In terms of mission success, I expect you'd know better than I would. How has it been different in terms of interpersonal dynamics?"

"Not much," Steve admitted.

"At this stage, you've both kept things from each other. That's hurt the trust between the two of you which is something you can't afford. What would have to happen for you to trust Tony again or for him to trust you?"

Steve stayed quiet, looking thoughtful.

"Think about it," Sweets said. "You both _want_ to trust each other again. I'm sure you can work something out."


	8. The Final Session

**A/N: I am so sorry that it has taken this long to finish Civil War: Consequences! Life got busy and my muse decided it was ready for vacation. I obviously do not own any of these characters.**

Sweets walked into his office that morning to see both Tony and Steve sitting in his office waiting for him.

He looked between the two, slightly confused. From the little bit that he had been told, it had sounded like these two couldn't bear to be in the same room.

"Well, it's wonderful to see both of you so early for your session, guys. I'll admit that this is the first time someone has been so early to a session."

Sweets stopped talking when he noticed their lack of actual response and started observing. Tony was holding his left arm again, Sweets noted something to include in the official report that Tony _needed_ to get checked out. Steve seemed a little more vacant, a little less present.

Sweets sighed, Tony seemed more likely to have a heart attack first so he turned his attention to him, "Tony can you tell me what's going on?"

"I never can do it. I never can reach what is expected of me. I try and try and try and yet continue to fail. I sacrifice everything I can for people I care about only to be told I'm doing it wrong. I can't seemingly be trusted, only to be blamed again and again. Everyone can't be wrong, it must be my fault. But how can it all be my fault?"

Sweets thought that might be the most emotionally driven statement he'd ever heard from Tony.

"Why do you think it's your fault, Tony?"

"They're gone, so much of the team is just gone. But I'm supposed to somehow fix it, Sweets I don't know how to fix it."

Sweets blinked, some of their team had died?! And no one had told him?

He focused back on Tony, "You don't have to fix it alone though, do you?"

Tony shrugged, "Pepper and Happy are generally the only ones who help me, just me in the past."

Tony seemed to sink into silence so Sweets turned his attention to Steve.

"Steve. Steve," Sweets reached out and gently nudged him, "Steve."

Steve blinked and his focus turned to Sweets, "He's gone. My best friend is gone. I'm the only one left. I just got him back and he's gone again."

Sweets nodded slowly, "Bucky's gone? I'm so sorry Steve."

Steve nodded. Sweets continued, "Can I ask you some questions about a different topic?"

Steve shrugged clearly not interested but not willing to protest, Sweets sighed, "How do you feel about Tony now that this has happened?"

"I don't know. Tony lost people too but he seems okay with Bucky being gone."

Sweets nodded, "Tony is this true?"

Tony shrugged, "Peter is gone and yet he's worried about Bucky? Bucky had a chance at life. Peter saw his abilities as a responsibility and he's gone because of that. I watched him murder my parents and because his brain wasn't on straight I'm supposed to be okay with the guy? I don't think so."

Steve looked like he was about ready to respond angrily when Sweets stepped in, "You still sound very angry about Bucky as well as now the loss of Peter. Did you complete your assignment on what you felt was needed for you and Steve to work together again?"

Tony reluctantly nodded, "I want him to acknowledge that I have the right to be upset with Bucky and not want him around. I don't want to hear all these reasons why it's not fair for me to feel this way. My parents are still dead and I still saw him pull the trigger."

Sweets looked at Steve who looked torn between anger and surprise, "I want him to see that trying to kill him wasn't fair and that my friend deserves better than his anger."

Sweets sighed, "Both of these are great thoughts. However, am I hearing you correctly in that you both are assigning different levels of blame to Bucky for his actions while with the terrorist group?"

Both of them acknowledged agreement.

"Steve, do you get upset with the victims if they respond negatively when you're trying to rescue them?"

Steve shook his head, "Of course not."

"But Tony is a victim, in this case, is he not?"

Steve seemed frozen in surprise.

Sweets turned to Tony, "Would you blame Pepper if she killed someone under the influence?"

Tony blinked, "No, of course not, but Pepper doesn't even drink..."

Sweets nodded, "And now for one second, you've actually gotten close to seeing the perspective of the other. You both have a long way to go but I do agree with the higher-ups that a therapist who can be read into your cases is definitely for the best. You both have the right to feel the way you do. No, Steve shouldn't have kept it from Tony. No, Tony shouldn't have tried to kill Bucky. However, forgiveness and working together is the only way forward. You have to work together and figure out what compromises are acceptable. "

The two quietly left, both appearing to be deep in thought. Sweets sighed, he seriously wondered what the US government was up to. How in the world could Steve have worked with Tony's dad? How could Tony go into the field in his fifties? He submitted his closing notes on his online patient file. Within twenty minutes, he had an email about a new assignment with Agents Mulder and Scully.

 **A/N: And it's finished! Writing Civil War: Consequences has been a great experience! Thank you so much to all who left kudos and comments and followed this story. I hope it has allowed you to see each side from a different perspective.**


End file.
